Life's a Real Beach
by wayward-tiger
Summary: Dean's hit with a water-triggered curse. Oh great.


"Damn that bitch was freakin' nuts, Sammy." Dean sighed a breath of relief as he unlocked the door to their latest motel room, nonchalantly tossing his duffle bag atop the bed closest the door.

"Yeah, well at least we got her for good." Sam released a sigh of his own as he traveled further into the dimly lit room, taking a seat on the end of his own bed.

"Just in the nick of time, too," Dean grinned at his brother, "Thanks, Sam, if it weren't for you I'm pretty sure that witch would've finished her funky mojo spell on me."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, now that that's outta the way, I call first dibs on the shower. That witch's gank juice sprayed all over me after that bullet you put through her head blew through a trail of gooey confetti."

Dean sauntered over to the bathroom sink and grabbed one of the dingy towels folded on the top rack. He gave a small nod and a short wave to Sam before shutting the bathroom door behind him. After seeing his brother close the door, Sam yawned wide and fell backwards onto the bed; his body splayed wide over the bedspread. He shut his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep as he heard his brother shuffle and shimmy out of his ripened hunting attire.

Just as Sam was about to lose connection with reality, he heard the hot spray from the shower turn on and a sudden loud crashing thud coming from the bathroom followed by a distinctive 'Shit!'. Sam's eyes darted open and he raced to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Dean, are you okay in there?" Sam knocked on the door once and put his ear up against the thin wood of the door.

Sam didn't hear a response from his brother, and so he knocked and asked again, "Dean?"

After a few brief seconds of nothing but the sound of spraying water, Dean finally answered, "Yeah, Sammy, I'm okay," Sam's tense shoulders relaxed as he lowered his fist from the door, "But I think we've got a problem."

Sam's body stiffened at the sound of his brother's nervous voice coming from behind the door. He gripped the brass door knob and turned the door open, "Dean, I'm coming in."

Sam strolled into the steaming bathroom wondering silently what the problem was that his brother sounded so concerned about. When he reached the rim of the curtain-covered shower, he stopped.

"Dean?" Sam cautiously asked before placing his fingers along the fine plastic curtain sheet, ready to pull away at a moment's notice.

"Yeah, Sam, I'm here."

With a gentle tug, Sam pulled the awfully patterned curtain out of his direct line of vision, bunching it up at one end of the tub and leaving it to sit. Sam looked around the shower at eye-level, but was surprised to find no trace of his brother, and instead only the running jet of hot water.

"Down here." Dean spoke calmly.

Upon hearing his brother's voice, Sam glanced downward toward the base of the shower tub to find one of the most shocking sights he'd ever seen in his entire life—his brother was sitting in the bathtub with a flicking mermaid tail in the place of what should've been his incredibly bowed legs!

"Oh my God, Dean!" Sam yelped at the discovery, taking a shocked step backward to evaluate the sight better.

"Cut the crap, Sam." Dean huffed as he hoisted himself into a more upright position by gripping both sides of the porcelain tub.

"Right, sorry…" Sam regained his composure and briskly walked back to the bath and shut off the running water. When he ended the disruptive flow, he kneeled down on the tiled floor and evaluated his brother's appearance at closer inspection.

Dean's legs were no more, and instead were replaced by one large, muscled appendage that resembled the manifestation of a fishtail—or rather a mermaid's tail. The tail was long and had two gossamer-like pelvic fins that ran from his hips to his thighs, and a large fantail caudal fin. The scales were a mesh of colors, blending from aquamarine to a shimmering gold hue when they moved with the light.

Sucking in a breath, Sam brushed his hair back from his head in one sweep, "How did this happen?"

"'The fuck should I know?" Dean snapped, crossing his arms over his bare chest and flicking his heavy tail against the solid floor of the tub.

Rolling his eyes at his obnoxious mermaid of a brother, Sam was hit with a thought, "Wait, Dean, what if this is an after effective of that curse that witch was trying to cast on you?"

"What? You think she cursed to be the little mermaid? C'mon, Sammy, use that college brain of yours to come up with a better idea."

"No, Dean, I'm being serious; just think about it for a second. You obviously said something to piss her off enough to do this to you."

"All I said to the woman was to take a bath—that hovel of hers reeked to high heavens, and so did her pits."

Sam slapped a bitchface over his expression and stared directly at the man sitting in the tub. Dean's eyes widened and he playful shrugged his shoulders.

"Of all things to say to a witch that could potentially turn you into sushi, Dean…" Sam rose to his feet.

"I'm sorry, but someone had to tell her eventually." Dean chuckled before he saw his brother moving out of the bathroom, "Hey where do you think you're goin', Sam?" Dean's voice was annoyed and slightly filled with panic.

"Relax, Ariel, I'm going to check up on that curse just to make sure it is what I think it is."

Dean leaned over the edge of the tub, letting his arms hang out and onto the floor, "And that would be…?"

"Since we killed the witch before she could finish her spell, I'm thinking it's a one-time deal. I'm pretty sure the fins will wear off after a short period of time; I didn't hear her speak the word 'perpetuum', after all. It must've been triggered when you came in contact with water—that witch's natural element."

"So what, you're gonna just leave me to sit in the bathtub like I'm Nemo?"

"I can't think of any better option. It looks like your scales are starting to dry out already, so I suggest you sit tight and keep them damp to save yourself from unnecessary flaking."

Dean pouted as he allowed his hand to curiously roam over the side of his tail and scratch at the patch of drying scales beneath his pelvic fin, "This friggin' sucks."

"Hey, it could've been worse." Sam counters Dean's complaining.

"Whatever, Sam, just go get me a beer. If I have to sit here all night I at least want a good drink."

"Shore thing, Dean." Sam grinned from the doorway, "Clam I get you any-fin else with that?"

Dean glared daggers at his pun-filled brother.

"Well I'll bait you dolphin-itly can't get out of this ship-uation."

"Are you serious right now, Sam?" Dean growled, wishing he could jump from the tub and run over to his brother to sock 'im good in the gut for making these horrible fish-related jabs at his predicament.

"Sorry, Dean, I was just squidding around." Sam snickered as he dodged the giant splash of bathwater that Dean's tail launched in his direction.

"Dammit, Sammy, hurry up and fix this!"

From the other room, Dean could hear Sam open the laptop and start tapping away at the keyboard. A welcomed silence filled the motel room and Dean relaxed back into a state of peaceful tranquility as he waited for the answers to solve his dilemma. The placidity of the room was ruined when Dean heard Sam speak again from the other room; Dean's eyes widened and his frown grew deeper.

"Yeah, looks like it'll be a few days until it wears off." Sam stood in the bathroom entrance to inform his brother.

"I can't believe this is my luck…" Dean grumbled, his tail flicked back and forth with displeasure.

"Ah well, you know what they say, Dean…" Sam leaned against the doorway.

"What's that, Sam?" Dean looked up with curiosity fresh in his eyes.

"Life's a real beach sometimes."


End file.
